


One Day At A Time

by TinkerBella



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 19:53:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinkerBella/pseuds/TinkerBella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deeks finds himself in caught up in a hostage situation, which brings back memories of his time with Siderov.  But he learns he's not alone.  A big of angst and hurt/comfort.  Takes place during the current timeline of the show itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Day At A Time

Deeks parked in front of his favorite coffee Shop, Ruby's. One of three he frequented throughout the week. It had fast become his favorite, and he'd discovered it by accident after Sam had drilled into him the importance of good trade craft. He rather wished he could come here daily, because their muffins were to die for, but Deeks tried never to make the same mistake twice. Getting shot had sucked, so he wasn't going to tempt fate. Or Sam's ire.

 

As he slid out of the drivers seat, Deeks hummed to himself. Mondays weren't his favorite, all the more so since Kensi had been shipped out on assignment, but going to work beat moping around at home. Especially since Mother Nature had been a bitch all weekend, which meant he hadn't been able to surf. She'd made it up to him this morning, though, so Deeks was in a good mood overall. A three mile run then an hour of surfing made Marty Deeks a happy boy.

 

"Good morning, Sunshine," Ruby greeted him, a smile on her broad face. She was almost as tall as he was but outweighed him by a good sixty pounds, and she had at least twenty years on him, but she wore them well. Sunshine was her nickname for him, her reasoning being that he was golden-haired and always smiling when he came in. 

 

"Good morning, Ruby," Deeks replied. "What's the special this morning?" He always asked because she was always coming up with new muffins and flavored coffees for him to try.

 

Ruby laughed, already filling his order. "Red Velvet muffins with cream cheese filling, and Cinnamon Vanilla coffee. You're going to love it."

 

Deeks grinned at her, reaching for his wallet. "I know I will." And it was truth. Ruby's choices never disappointed. Pulling out a ten, Deeks deposited it on the counter, waving away his change. 

 

"You give too much, Sunshine," Ruby chided him.

 

"You deserve much more, you treat me like a King," Deeks replied, grabbing his muffin and coffee and heading for the table in the corner. He was early enough that he could eat in today, taking his time to read the paper she always had waiting for him with his order. 

 

Ruby flapped her hands at him, but she was smiling at him fondly and it warmed Deeks in a way he didn't want to question. So he simply sat down and enjoyed his breakfast and his paper while Ruby went happily back to work.

 

Twenty minutes later, Deeks had a full stomach and was updated on the news. He gathered up his garbage and dumped it in the nearby receptacle, before making a pit stop in the men's room. He laughed to himself, thinking about how Kensi would be teasing him about his bathroom trip, if she were here. Which sobered his mood a bit, even though thinking about his partner was never a bad thing.

 

After doing his business, Deeks washed his hands, splashing cold water on his face and drying off with a fistful of paper towels. He felt ready to head into work and face whatever the day would bring. Telling himself that each day that ended was a day closer to Kensi coming back home.

 

As he exited the men's room, Deeks noticed a commotion at the counter. He froze as he took in the sight of a man who looked to be in his late twenties, with a buzz cut and wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, waving a gun in Ruby's face. But he was clearly agitated and as some of the customers made a beeline for the exit, he started pointing the gun in their direction. 

 

"Dammit!" Deeks hissed to himself, ducking back down the hallway so he wouldn't be seen. He'd left his gun in the glove compartment of his car, not wanting to bring a weapon into a public place when he wasn't yet on duty. He knew there was a back exit through the kitchen and that he could gain access to it through the door across from the men's room. Deciding it would be his best bet to go for his gun then come back in, Deeks was heading that way when a shout from the gunman made him freeze.

 

"Stop moving or I'll shoot! I swear to God I'll shoot!" the young man screamed, his voice edged with a coldness that made Deeks shiver.

 

He moved back up the hallway and peeked around. The gunman was facing towards him but with his head turned a shade to the left. Deeks had a good enough view to realize he knew the man. Brody Trenton, the younger brother of one of the few LAPD detectives that Marty was actually friends with. In fact, Deeks had met Brody at a fourth of July barbecue a few years back. Greg always made it a point to invite Deeks, but he had only made it to that one barbecue, when Brody had been on leave for two months, before heading back for a second tour of duty. 

 

Greg Trenton was ten years older than Deeks, his brother was about five years younger. What worried Deeks now was the fact that Brody was military. In fact, if he remembered correctly, Greg had mentioned a few months ago that Brody would be home soon, finished with his third tour and coming back to stay.

 

Which meant Brody knew how to shoot a gun. He would hit any target he aimed at and the coffee shop held about two dozen living targets. Deeks knew he had to get everyone out of here. Drawing a deep breath, he released it slowly, willing himself to relax and focus. Then he stepped out around the corner, hands raised in the air.

 

"Brody!" Deeks called out, drawing the young man's attention to himself.

 

"Don't move!" Brody hissed, pointing his gun at Deeks. Then he froze, peering intently at him. "I know you." He looked confused and uncertain, but his gun never wavered.

 

Deeks nodded. "Yeah. You know me. I work with your brother. I met you at a fourth of July barbecue a couple years ago."

 

Brody relaxed, gun dropping just a fraction. "You're Deeks. Right?"

 

"That's me." Deeks risked taking a step closer. "Listen, man. I don't know what's going on, but we can talk about it. Okay? Just you and me. I know you don't want to hurt anybody. So why don't you let everyone walk out of here, then you and me we'll sit down and talk."

 

"No! NO! NO!" Brody quickly became agitated, whirling around and waving his gun again, even as he back against the far wall, keeping all of them in sight. "I don't want to talk! I'm done talking!"

 

Deeks moved to stand between him and the unfortunate hostages, trying to draw Brody's focus onto him and him alone. "Okay, man. It's all good. If you don't want to talk, we don't have to talk. But I do need you to tell me what's up. What do you want?"

 

Shaking his head, Brody pointed his weapon back on Deeks. "I don't know what I want! Justice! How's that sound? I want justice!"

 

"I can work with that," Deeks allowed, suddenly realizing that Brody was having a melt down. And it was scarily familiar to him. "I want to help you, buddy, but you need to let the others go. If you don't, cops are going to show up and SWAT will be breaking the door down. You know I'm telling you the truth. You know it. So let's do the right thing. Okay?" Deeks hoped like hell he was getting through to Brody, otherwise things were going to fall apart fast and it wasn't going to end well.

 

"Where's your gun? Show me your gun!" Brody shouted. "Now!"

 

Deeks shook his head. "I don't have it on me. I don't like to carry it when I'm off duty, unless I have to. You can pat me down if you like."

 

Brody didn't move an inch. "Pull your shirt up and turn in a circle," he ordered.

 

"I can do that." Deeks put actions to word, lifting his tee shirt and turning to show he didn't have a gun tucked into his jeans.

 

"Lift up your pant legs," Brody ordered, a moment later, pointing to Deeks' ankles. He watched as Deeks tugged up the hem of his jeans then nodded, apparently satisfied that Deeks was telling the truth.

 

Smoothing his pant legs back down, Deeks smiled at Brody. "I'm being straight with you, buddy. So be straight with me. What's going on here? I mean, is it money your after? I know your brother would help you out if that's the case. So what's the deal?"

 

Cold laughter spilled out of Brody. "You wouldn't understand, Deeks. You haven't been where I've been. You didn't do the things I've done. And no one cares. No one gets it."

 

"So tell me," Deeks invited. "But just you and me, okay? Let these people go. They don't belong here, Brody. They're not the enemy."

 

"Bullshit!" Once again Brody waved his gun at the patrons, eyes wild and body practically vibrating with anger. "They're my enemy! They're more than happy to let me go to war and die for them, but they don't give a shit about me now. I'm nothing to them! Just garbage they wish they could throw away!"

 

Behind Deeks the patrons were restless. All of them nervous and scared. Ruby was frozen behind the counter, staring at Deeks. Thankfully, no one was doing anything stupid like panicking and making a scene that would shake Brody up and make him start shooting. But Deeks knew his luck wouldn't last. He knew he had to get them out of here before the police showed up and Brody lost what little control he had and started shooting. 

 

As if to prove his point, sirens started wailing, moving closer and Deeks turned to see the flashing lights of LAPD patrol cars. "We've got company, buddy," he said, stating the obvious to Brody. "It's time to do the right thing, man. Let the others go. Okay? I'll tell the cops to give us some space and we'll talk about what you need so everyone walks out of here alive." 

 

"I can't...I can't do that." Brody was starting to panic, his face shiny with sweat. He started pacing, but he never lowered his weapon. 

 

"You can...you can do this, Brody." Deeks willed the other man to listen to him. He knew what would happen if Brody didn't let the others go. If they didn't do something to resolve this. Innocent people were going to die. Deeks wasn't going to let that happen. It was one thing to take out the bad guys. But no one in this shop deserved to die today. No one. "We can all walk out of here alive. But you have to start by letting everyone leave. Okay? Just let them walk out of here."

 

Outside the cops had set up a barricade with at least half a dozen squad cars. Deeks didn't have to look to know their guns were drawn. He wasn't surprised when a voice came over a bull horn.

 

"This is Detective Ramirez with the LAPD! We know that you are armed and that you have hostages! Put down your weapon and come out with your hands up!"

 

"NO!" Brody moved towards the windows and fired two shots.

 

Deeks followed him, taking note of the fact that he shot directly at the tires of one of the police cars. He wasn't trying to hurt anyone. He was just warning them off. "Not a good move, Brody," Deeks informed him. "You know you just pissed them off and now they're going to come in hot for you. Not what you were looking to do. Right? Let me talk to them." Deeks needed to get through to Brody. He knew Ramirez. The man was a hard nose when it came to hostage situations. He was ex-military and his focus was always on taking down the bad guy by any means. He might see things differently if he knew Brody Trenton was the bad guy, because he and Brody's brother were friends.

 

Brody shook his head. "No. No talking. How the hell did they get here so fast? How did they know?"

 

"State of the art alarm system," Deeks replied, seeing no reason to lie. He had noticed Ruby's system the first time he'd come here. She was a smart woman and he knew she'd hit the panic button the moment Brody had entered the shop. Which was why he'd tried to get him to stand down and release the hostages ASAP. "Let me talk to them. I'll tell them you're letting the hostages go and that you and I are going to talk about demands and we'll get things done. Okay? I'll help you get what you need, buddy. But if you don't do this, all that's going to happen is people are going to die. You don't want that and neither do I."

 

"Call them!" Brody had regained his focus and he pointed his gun at Deeks without wavering. "CALL THEM!" he shouted.

 

Deeks nodded. "Okay. I can do that." He grabbed his phone from his back pocket and speed dialed Eric. "My friend is going to connect me." He wanted Brody to know what he was doing. He didn't have Ramirez's cell number, but he knew Eric could connect him and that way Hetty and his team would also know why he was late for work. Hetty was a stickler for being on time after all, and Deeks didn't want to get on her bad side. He was pretty sure she'd accept being held hostage as a good excuse.

 

It took only a moment for Eric to pick up. "Deeks, you're late. Hetty is not happy."

 

"Me either," Deeks replied. "Listen, I need you to connect me to the cell phone of Antonio Ramirez. He's an LAPD detective, shield number 5122. Now would be good."

 

"What's going on?" Eric's tone changed and Deeks could hear him typing on his keyboard.

 

Deeks sighed. "Kinda got a situation going on, so if you could hurry that would be great."

 

Eric tapped a few more keys, but he obviously got the fact that something serious was happening. "I'm going to three way you and put you on speaker," he stated.

 

"Sounds good," Deeks replied. A moment later he heard Ramirez pick up. "This is Detective Marty Deeks," he said, knowing Ramirez would recognize him.

 

"Deeks?" Ramirez sounded stunned. "What the hell? Why are you calling me? I'm working!"

 

Deeks snorted. "Me too. I'm in the coffee shop. I've been asked to call you so we can negotiate terms. I told our mutual friend that if he lets the hostages go, I'll stay and work things out with him. Sound like a plan?" Deeks really hoped Ramirez went along with him, because Brody was breathing down his neck and getting worked up again. He also hoped Hetty was listening. He wouldn't mind in the least if she sent Callen and Sam down to help. 

 

What Deeks didn't know was that Eric had already zeroed in on Ramirez's location, via his cell phone GPS, and he had traffic cams linked and with the hit of a keystroke he had video for the inside of Ruby's coffee shop. Where Deeks was the star of the show.

 

"What had Mr. Deeks gotten himself into now?" Hetty commented, eyes locked on the big screen. She was aware of Callen and Sam joining her, having been called up to OPS by Nell.

 

"Hostage situation," Sam stated, eyes tracking the scene. "Only Deeks."

 

Callen nodded. "What's happening Eric?" he queried.

 

The Tech Analyst shrugged. "You know as much as I do. Deeks called, asking me to connect him to Detective Ramirez and I was able to pull up traffic cam footage, which led me to connect to the alarm system cameras in the shop. "Deeks is talking to Ramirez right now."

 

Sure enough, they could hear the conversation.

 

"How many hostages are we talking?" Ramirez asked.

 

"About two dozen," Deeks replied. "Keep your guys outside. If you work with me we can clear this place in no time. You just need to let me do the talking."

 

Ramirez snorted. "Well, that's something you've always been good at, isn't it, Deeks?" His tone implying the intended insult. "You get those hostages released ASAP and I'll give you ten minutes."

 

Deeks looked at Brody, knowing he needed more time. "I'll give you the hostages, but you need to let me see this through until it's over." He didn't want to say too much until he knew what Brody wanted. 

 

"Get those hostages out!" Ramirez ordered. "We'll go from there." 

 

"Fair enough." Deeks didn't end the connection as he turned to Brody. "We can talk, but everyone else has to leave first. Okay? It's a good deal, buddy. Trust me."

 

Brody was pacing again, body rigid, skin sheened with sweat. His eyes were wild and glassy and Deeks knew it wouldn't take much to set him off. But, thankfully, Brody nodded. "Get them out of here. NOW!"

 

Deeks didn't hesitate. He began herding everyone to the door. "They're coming out now," he told Ramirez. "Hold your fire." He was about to head for the door and open it when Brody suddenly grabbed his arm, yanking him back. Deeks let him, falling back, not flinching when Brody pressed the muzzle of his gun into his ribs. "Easy, man. It's all good."

 

"Get out! Get out now!" Brody screamed at the hostages. Gun now waving in their direction until they surged to the exit and scurried out. 

 

"Sunshine?" Ruby was the last to go, pausing at the door to stare at Deeks with fear in her brown eyes.

 

Deeks smiled at her. "I'm good, Ruby. Go ahead. My friend and I are just going to sit here and talk a bit. It's fine."

 

She nodded, moving out the door, but looking back at him once more before running across the street to safety. Deeks felt relieved as he lifted his phone to his ear. "That's all of them, Ramirez. Now stay put until I call back." With that he ended the call, stuffing his phone into his back pocket. Hostages were safe, now he had to move on to the next step. Talking Brody off the figurative ledge he was standing on.

 

"I'm not your friend," Brody whispered, as he shoved Deeks towards the door. "Lock it and close the blinds!"

 

"On it." Deeks didn't argue. He simply did as he was told, all the while hoping the Ramirez would stay put and that Sam and Callen were on their way.

 

Which they were. Even before the hostages were released they had headed out in the Charger. Callen was on the phone with Nell who was updating them. Facial recognition had identified Brody Trenton and a background check revealed his relationship to Detective Greg Trenton and Brody's military background. 

 

Nell related more information, that had them both worried. "Brody was taken prisoner six months before his honorable discharge. He and three others in his unit. Two escaped but Brody and his friend, Leon, were tortured. They were acting on orders but under the radar. It took three days for them to be rescued and there's not much on record. Leon died from his injuries and Brody spent two weeks in the hospital before returning to base. He came home two months ago."

 

"What were his injuries?" Sam queried.

 

"Um..." Nell hesitated before replying. "It looks like he was whipped and burned. Starved as well. To be honest, there aren't a lot of details."

 

Callen sighed. "I'm not surprised since it wasn't an official mission. But it does gives us something to work with."

 

Sam looked unhappy. "As a marine, Brody was trained to withstand torture, but that doesn't make it easy to deal with. I wish we could get this information to Deeks."

 

"We can call him," Callen countered. "Or, better yet. Nell, text Deeks and send the file with Brody's information."

 

"Sending it as we speak," Nell replied.

 

Hetty was watching the big screen, keeping her eyes on Deeks and Brody inside the coffee shop. She was proud of the Detective. He was handling everything with text book precision in dealing with a hostage negotiation. But now he needed to get himself out of there. "Ms. Jones, contact Detective Trenton. Let him know what's going on. Perhaps he will have some insight as to his brother's...issues."

 

Nell nodded. "Will do." She began typing furiously and a keystroke later she was speaking to Trenton. She got him up to speed then she disconnected. "He's on his way to the coffee shop."

 

"Good." Hetty crossed her arms over her chest and refocused on Deeks. She had done all she could do for him. Now it was up to the detective to see this through. Hetty knew he could get the job done. "Are you there yet, Mr. Callen?" she queried, tapping her ear wig.

 

"Just pulled up," Callen replied. "We'll keep you updated." He exited the charger and with Sam beside him, made his way over to Detective Ramirez. He and Sam pulled their badges and identified themselves. 

 

Ramirez looked both confused and irritated. "Why the hell is NCIS involved?"

 

Sam glared at him. "Deeks works with us. We take care of our own."

 

"Yeah?" Ramirez did not look impressed. "Well he got all of the hostages released, but if he doesn't get the perp to surrender in five minutes, we're going in."

 

"Like hell you are!" Sam was furious. "You go in hot and you put Deeks in danger! That's not going to happen." Even before the Siderov debacle, when Deeks hadn't been Sam's favorite person, he would have watched out for him. But now, after Deeks had protected him and his wife, despite being tortured, Sam would go to the extreme to protect the Detective. To protect his own. 

 

Callen patted Sam on the shoulder, distracting him from his target. "Look, Ramirez, are you even aware of who the perp is?"

 

Ramirez shrugged. "Does it matter? He took a shop full of people hostage and now he's holding a cop. That's all I need to know."

 

"So you wouldn't change the game plan even knowing that Brody Trenton is the one holding the gun?" Callen challenged.

 

"What?" Ramirez looked stunned. "You're telling me it's Greg's brother in there?"

 

Callen nodded. "We actually have eyes on them and Deeks has made a connection with him. So you need to let it play out. Understand?"

 

Before Ramirez could respond, an SUV came roaring up to the police barricade, tires squealing as it stopped abruptly. The passenger door flew open and a man stepped out, his face pinched and his eyes shining with worry. He strode over to Ramirez. 

 

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded. 

 

"Gary - " Ramirez began, only to be cut off by Sam.

 

He grabbed Trenton by the arm and pulled him off to the side, where they could speak privately. "Detective Trenton, I'm Special Agent Sam Hanna with NCIS. This is my partner, Agent Callen." He pointed to G. "Detective Marty Deeks is inside with your brother. We have eyes on them and Deeks has connected with Brody. But I need you to tell me what's going on with your brother."

 

Trenton shook his head, body slumping against the nearby wall. He looked defeated. "I wish to hell I knew! Brody was always so laid back and full of life. He finally comes home and he's like a stranger. He's so quiet and angry all the time. He's been staying with me and he scared my kids the other night to the point where my daughter was crying. I told him he had to get his act together or he was going to have to leave. He told me to go to hell and took off. That was three days ago. I haven't seen him since. I tried calling him but he wouldn't answer me."

 

"We know some of what happened to him in Iraq," Callen stated. "What has he told you about it?"

 

"Nothing." Trenton scrubbed a hand over his face, his eyes dark with despair. "He won't talk about it. He said he can't and he told me I wouldn't understand anyway. He used to tell me everything. We've always been close. Truth is, because of our age difference and my parents divorcing when he was 3, I've been more like a father to Brody than a brother. But it's different now. He's different. He hasn't hurt anyone, has he?"

 

Sam shook his head. "Not yet. Deeks has been keeping him grounded."

 

Trenton looked relieved. "I know Deeks isn't Mr. Popular at LAPD, but he's a good man and a good cop. I don't want him to get hurt."

 

"Do you think it would help if you could talk to Brody?" Callen was ready to try anything.

 

"I doubt it," Trenton replied. He pushed away from the wall and started pacing. "From the moment Brody came home, it seems like all we do is fight. He's so angry and closed off from everyone. I don't know how to help him."

 

Sam looked at Callen. He could guess at what Brody was going through, but it wasn't their place to confide in his brother. For now they would have to hope Deeks could get through to Brody and get them both out of their in one piece.

 

***

 

"Can we sit down?" Deeks asked Brody, gesturing to a corner table. They could both sit with an eye to the door.

 

"Sure. Why not." Brody waved for Deeks to lead the way. Once seated he shifted in his chair, keeping his gun trained on the Detective. "You can't help me, you know. There's nothing anyone can do to help me."

 

Deeks didn't like the sound of that. When a man started thinking like that, he was heading for a one-way ticket out of existence. Deeks knew that from experience. He'd suffered through some very dark times, starting with his childhood years. And after reading the text Nell had sent him on Brody, Deeks had a good idea why the other man was feeling that way now. "I know a little about what happened to you in Iraq." He decided it was time to put al lhis cards on the table. What he didn't know was that he had an audience. Had he known, it might have deterred him just a bit.

 

Brody glared at him. "You don't know anything."

 

"I know you were captured by hostiles and tortured for three days," Deeks replied, watching Brody stiffen in disbelief as he spoke. "I know your friend, Leon, died from his injuries. I also know it was an *unofficial* mission, so you can't talk about it. Which sucks, right? I mean. No one can really understand what you went through, but what makes it worse is that you can't tell anyone about it. You have to pretend it never happened to the rest of the world, even as you struggle with the memory of it each and every day."

 

"You're just a cop!" Brody snarled. "What would you know about it?"

 

Deeks shrugged, not letting himself take offense at the other man's intended insult. He'd heard a lot worse in his lifetime. Much of it from his own father. "Actually, I'm the LAPD liason to NCIS, so I've done some Top Secret stuff. The kind of thing you can only share with your unit. But two of them escaped before they were tortured and Leon's dead. So you don't have anyone to talk about it to. Right?"

 

Anger flared in Brody's eyes and he shoved back from the table, his chair flying across the room. "You have no idea! You don't know what it's like! Shut the hell up!" He moved with lightning reflexes, backhanding Deeks across the temple with his free hand. 

 

The blow knocked Deeks out of his chair, and he lay in a crumpled heaped, his head throbbing and feeling a bit dazed for a moment. 

 

***

 

"Oh dear," Hetty muttered, watching the assault play out on the big screen.

 

"What's happening?" Callen asked, hearing her through his ear wig.

 

Hetty sighed. "Mr. Trenton just struck Mr. Deeks. He's very angry."

 

Sam didn't like the sound of that. "Should we go in, Hetty?"

 

"Not yet." Hetty watched the Detective rise slowly to his feet. "Let's give Mr. Deeks a chance, shall we. But you may want to get into position. Just in case. I believe a quiet entry would be best for all involved."

 

"There's a rear entrance," Nell interjected. "Back alleyway."

 

"Copy that," Callen replied, turning to Sam. "You want front or back?"

 

Sam considered. "Back." He nodded then moved off, leaving Callen to explain things to Trenton, while he did the same for Ramirez. Deeks was their team member, and they were going to make sure he came out of this alive and well.

 

***

 

"Nice hit," Deeks drawled, pressing a hand to his throbbing temple as he got back on his feet. "Didn't mean to piss you off, buddy. I really do get where you're coming from. I swear."

 

"You ever been tortured?" Brody laughed at him, taunting him.

 

Deeks righted his chair and sat back down again. "Sad to say, yes I have. It sucked. I wouldn't recommend it. And, before you ask for details, same rules apply to me. Secret mission type stuff, so I can't talk about it. No details. But that stuff doesn't matter anyway, does it? It's all about the pain and isolation and feeling like you'd rather be dead than suffer just one more minute of that damn pain. It's like you're going to go insane if it doesn't stop. And there's nothing you can do to make it stop. No control. Strapped down and helpless and you can't say or do anything to make it stop. You can't give anything away." For a moment Deeks felt himself fading away, slipping back into the pain. Feeling himself strapped down in that chair, choking on mouthful after mouthful of blood, knowing he couldn't give up Sam or Michelle. Knowing he was going to die and wishing it would happen right that very minute so that the pain would finally stop.

 

The sound of a fist slamming into the table startled Deeks back to the present. Brody was staring at him in shocked disbelief. "You're just a cop," he whispered.

 

"Kind of like a super-hero cop who gets to save the world on a daily basis," Deeks replied, relying on his humor to chase away the ghostly trendils of a nightmare that never really went away. It haunted him in the dark and sometimes it haunted him in the light of day.

 

***

 

Hetty listened to what Deeks was saying, hating that he had to relive that horrible time in his life, but knowing he was strong enough to do so. She hoped sharing the memory might help him, as much as it might help Brody Trenton to move on to a better place. But how sad that such tragic events were the thing that they had in common. That pain and isolation were the things that had pushed Brody Trenton to this point in the first place. Hetty wished that life had taken a different turn for both men.

 

"Mr. Hanna," Hetty said softly.

 

"Yes, Hetty?" Sam was quick to reply.

 

Hetty paused, hoping she was doing the right thing. "Mr. Deeks is sharing his own hardship with Mr. Trenton." She knew that Sam would understand her reference. "When this is over, keep an eye on our Detective."

 

Sam's voice was thick with emotion when he replied, "I've got his back."

 

"I know you do." Hetty had watched the team suffer through many difficulties as they adjusted to becoming a unit. But in the end they had taken all the broken and fragmented pieces that were themselves, and formed a cohesive whole. She was proud of them all.

 

"Do you think Deeks can do this?" Callen asked Sam, getting Hetty's reference as well.

 

The Ex-Navy Seal nodded, without hesitation. "Deeks is tough. Tougher than we give him credit for. He'll get the job done, G. And he's gonna come out stronger on the other side. And we'll be there with him all the way."

 

Callen nodded, clapping Sam on the back. "Yes, we will."

 

"What's happening?" Greg Trenton knew he was missing something. He had given Sam and Callen police radios, so they could keep him informed.

 

"They're talking," Sam replied, not wanting to go into details. He could tell Detective Trenton was stressed and anxious, which meant he wasn't necessarily in control. And they needed to be calm and in control right now.

 

That wasn't what Trenton wanted to hear. "I need to go in there. I need to talk to Brody. I'll make him see reason!" He made a move to cross the street.

 

Sam stopped him with the command tone of his voice. "You have to give Deeks a chance. Like I said, we have eyes and ears on them and from what I'm told, he's made a connection to your brother. Deeks understands what Brody has been through."

 

"How could he?" Anger colored Trenton's entire being. "He's a cop, not a soldier! If I couldn't help my brother, how can Deeks?"

 

"Because Deeks is more than a cop," Callen replied. "We sent him the information on your brother, so he knows what happened to Brody. I can't tell you more than that but, trust me, Deeks can help."

 

Before Trenton could respond, Hetty interrupted. "Mr. Callen."

 

Callen tapped his ear wig. "Yes, Hetty?"

 

"Ms. Jones found a way to connect you to the video feed inside the shop. You and Mr. Hanna will be able to hear what's going on now. I leave it to you now to take care of things." There was a world of meaning in her words.

 

***

 

Brody dropped into a chair, face buried in one hand, the other still secure on the gun. His body was shaking. "I can't...I can't do this any more."

 

"Do what?" Deeks prompted, more than ready to bring this scenario to a close. He hadn't given any details about his own torture, but it still unsettled him to talk about it. To relive it yet again. Because even though he was focusing on Brody now, Deeks could still feel the coldness of that metal contraction in his mouth. Could still taste that metallic bitterness mixed in with the coppery aftertaste that never seemed to go away. Sometimes he would wake up, gagging from it. But he had to push those memories aside. Push them in deep and lock them away. 

 

"I don't sleep," Brody whispered. "I doze here and there but I'm so damn tired and it's making me crazy. I close my eyes and drift off and then I'm there again. I can't move...I can't breathe...it hurts so damn much..." he broke off, a sob escaping him. 

 

Deeks felt himself caught up in Brody's memories. Felt his chest constrict, his lungs tighten and close, making it almost impossible to suck in another breath. But he couldn't do this. He couldn't let himself get lost in the pain and the fear. It was over now. For both of them. They were safe and alive and it was time to focus on that and nothing more. "One day at a time," Deeks stated.

 

Brody's head shot up at his words. "What?"

 

"You have to take it one day at time," Deeks repeated. "That's what you have to do. You have to let go of everything else and just focus on the here and now. Focus on the things you can control. Everything else...you have to let it go."

 

"It's not that easy." Brody sounded as defeated as he looked, his body slumped over, still trembling like a leaf.

 

Deeks dared to reach out to him, laying one hand on his shoulder. "Never said it was easy. Man...there were days I was so tired I thought for sure I was going to go crazy. But it got better. It doesn't disappear, but it gets better. When I can't sleep now, I go for a run. Or I hit the bag. Surf. I surf a lot. Sometimes I cook, if it's the middle of the night. It's weird, because I can't eat what I make because my stomach's in knots, but cooking helps. I make these dishes that I can't even pronounce and they probably taste like shit, but I have to concentrate on the ingredients and grating things or chopping them the right way. It helps." And wouldn't Sam make fun of him for weeks on end if he knew about that particular hobby? So Deeks was going to make certain the big guy never found out.

 

Brody jumped up and began pacing. "I feel like my skin is too tight, you know? Like pins and needles prickling me over and over and it itches and I can't scratch it. I can't get comfortable. I can't think straight. I'm scared all the damn time! I'm a soldier! I'm not supposed to be afraid!" He was getting worked up again. Getting angry. Losing control.

 

"Being afraid makes you smart and it makes you human." Deeks stood up as well, daring to step into Brody's personal space, to make him stop and face him. "You're not a machine, buddy. Okay? It's okay to be afraid." Deeks knew Brody faced fear every day as a soldier. It was the same being a cop. If you weren't afraid, that's when you were being stupid and liable to get yourself killed. But he also knew that it was a different kind of fear now. The kind of fear that paralyzed you. The kind of fear that made you want to curl up in a corner and never move again. "It helps to talk about it. You can talk about the fear and the pain without giving away any secrets. You could talk to your brother. Even if he doesn't understand what you went through...he can listen. And you can talk to me."

 

"Talking won't make it go away!" Brody screamed at Deeks, one hand reaching out and pushing him away hard enough to make him slam into the counter.

 

Which hurt like a bastard as Deeks' ribs connected with the sharp edge. He took a moment to catch his breath, then he pushed away and moved to confront Brody once more. The guy was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. His emotions were quicksilver and all over the place. Angry one minute, scared the next, sad and confused and everything in between all in the blink of an eye. Just one more thing he had no control over and Deeks remembered, all too well, how terrifying it felt to have no control. To be strapped down and helpless. Knowing the pain was coming and unable to do anything to stop it. Being stripped of control was the one thing that still terrified Deeks the most. 

 

Brody stopped pacing when Deeks stepped into his path. "Make it stop," he pleaded. "Please make it stop."

 

"We can figure it out, buddy," Deeks promised. "But you need to give me the gun. We need to walk out of here, okay? I'm not gonna lie. It's not going to be easy and the cops are waiting to arrest you. They're going to have to take you in and you're going to talk to a bunch of idiots. But I'll be with you. And I know your brother will be there too. But I need you to give me your gun. That's the first step."

 

"I can't go out there!" Brody was shaking his head and moving away. "I can't face them! I can't face Greg! I can't do this!" His tone escalated along with his anxiety and he was shaking and waving the gun around, heading for a full blown panic attack.

 

Deeks wanted to stop that from happening. Panic attacks and a gun in hand were a bad combination. One more thing he knew from experience. "Brody, I need you to look at me, okay? You have to calm down and take deep breaths. Focus, man. Just focus on me." Deeks moved closer, his eyes on the waving gun. First chance he got he would go for it.

 

But Brody wasn't able to focus. He was already caught up in the tsunami of anxiety, wave after wave of panic slamming into him. "NO NO NO!" he screamed, grabbing a chair and flinging it across the room. A table was tipped over, another chair hit the front window, shattering it. But he never once let go of the gun.

 

***

 

Sam and Callen heard what was happening, even as the cops watched the chair hit the sidewalk. They were tired of waiting and the action had them ready to move. 

 

Callen looked at Sam. "We need to move now."

 

"Agreed." Sam grabbed his radio. "Trenton, we're moving in. We'll bring them both out of this." 

 

"Guess I have to trust you on that one," Trenton replied.

 

Sam didn't disagree with him, but he didn't have time to respond. He could see Rodriguez gesturing for his men to move in. "Hold your positions!" Sam ordered him. "Agent Callen and I are moving in. Hold back until we contact you."

 

Rodriguez cursed but complied, signaling for his men to stand down.

 

"Ready?" Callen asked his partner.

 

"Ready," Sam replied. "On three." And as one unit, they moved.

 

***

 

 

Deeks watched as Brody collapsed to the floor, his body overwhelmed by the anxiety he was feeling. He moved in quickly, kneeling beside him and reaching for the gun. But Brody moved faster, pressing the barrel to his own temple. 

 

"I can't...I can't do this anymore," he sobbed.

 

"Yes, you can!" Deeks replied, desperation in his voice. "You're strong enough, Brody! You're stronger than you know!" He wasn't about to let the man die.

 

But in that moment, Greg Trenton had had enough. He could see his brother through the shattered window and he crossed the street at a run, jumping through the opening, before Callen could stop him. "Brody!"

 

His brother stiffened, distracted, gun now pointed at the intruder, finger pulling the trigger before he could focus on who it was.

 

"NO!" Deeks shouted, shoving Brody's arm down towards the floor as the gun fired. The bullet slammed into the floor, making Greg freeze even as Brody surged to his feet, his free arm grabbing Deeks and hauling him up with him. And in the chaos of the moment, Deeks found himself hostage, one of Brody's arms wrapped around his neck while the gun barrel pressed hard into his sore ribs.

 

"Freeze!" Callen was now standing in front of Greg Trenton, gun focused on Brody.

 

Deeks knew Sam was somewhere close by. Could guess he had entered from the rear and that he was waiting to make his move. He was glad they were here, but this wasn't how he'd hoped things would go down. He'd been so close to getting the gun and bringing Brody out of this. "Easy, buddy," Deeks said softly. "No more bullets, okay? We all just need to chill out and walk out of here."

 

Greg stood behind Callen, but now he stepped out around him, one hand reaching for his brother. Pleading. "Please, Brody. Put the gun down and let Deeks go. We can all go home now. Please."

 

"Liar!" Brody screamed at him. "At least Deeks doesn't lie to me! I let him go and I go to jail! I can't do that! I can't be held captive again! I can't do that!" He was shifting position, dragging Deeks with him as he moved to put his back to the wall. The soldier in him taking over, taking control, keeping his eyes on the enemy in front of him.

 

"Brody." Deeks kept his voice low and calm, hoping to cut through the tension. 

 

It worked, Brody stopped moving. His arm was still wrapped around Deeks' neck and the gun was still pressing into his ribs, but he stopped long enough to listen. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I don't know what else to do, Deeks."

 

Deeks cleared his throat, mind searching for the right thing to say. It was hard to think clearly right now. His head ache, his ribs throbbed and he couldn't ignore the gun digging into him, but instinct took over. "How do you want this to end, Buddy?"

 

"What?" The question seemed to confuse Brody.

 

"Deeks," Callen called out to him, warning him to be careful.

 

Careful was Deeks middle name. "How do you want this to end?" he repeated. "Do you want people to die? Do you want me to die? Your brother? Do you want to die?"

 

Brody's arm tightened around Deeks' neck for a moment, almost choking him, until he seemed to realize what he was doing. He eased his grip a bit, the pressure of the gun easing as well. Easing, but not letting Deeks go. Not yet. "I want to stop feeling like I'm going insane. That's what I want."

 

"We can make that happen," Deeks replied. "You, me, your brother. I know someone you can talk too. And, you know what, there are some good drugs out there. The legal kind. They can help you sleep. Everything makes a hell of a lot more sense once you can sleep again. I promise you that."

 

"I don't want to go to jail," Brody whispered, sounding broken and defeated again.

 

Deeks felt a wave of relief wash over him. He had been afraid of what kind of headspace Brody was in. That he was in too dark of a place to see any way out. "You haven't hurt anyone, buddy. Like I said, you'll be arrested and have to go to the station to talk, but I promise you won't go to jail. You've got connections, you know. Your brother, me. And let me tell you, I know some pretty powerful people." Had Deeks known Hetty was listening, he might not have said that, but then again, he was aware that Callen could tell on him. He didn't care. He just wanted Brody to walk out of there alive.

 

Brody's gun hand started shaking. "I don't know...I don't know what to do." 

 

"Yes you do." Deeks reached for the gun and he exhaled in relief when the other man let him take it. "You just did it, buddy. You did the right thing."

 

"The right thing," Brody whispered, shaking his head even as he released his hold on Deeks. "I don't even know what that is anymore."

 

Turning, Deeks drew Brody into a hug. There wasn't really anything he could say to that, because there were days when he had his own doubts. So he let Brody cling to him before releasing him to his brother's care.

 

Greg hugged his brother for a long moment, before letting Callen cuff him. "Thanks, Deeks. I owe you." His tone was gruff, but his eyes shone with sincerity.

 

"Beer and steak," Deeks replied, managing a shaky grin.

 

"You got it." Greg patted him on the shoulder, then gathered his brother to him before leading him out the door.

 

Sam had appeared from his hiding spot, moving straight to Deeks and giving him the once over. "You okay?"

 

Deeks pondered the question, taking a mental inventory of his physical well being. He was totally going to ignore how he felt emotionally right now. "Ask me tomorrow," he eventually replied.

 

"Good work, Deeks," Callen said, clapping him on the shoulder. Then he refocused his attention. "Will you take care of this, Hetty?" he queried to his boss.

 

"I will," she replied. "Please let Mr. Deeks know he's not to worry. Brody Trenton will have all the help he needs."

 

Callen smiled. "Will do." He looked at Deeks who was eyeing him with suspicion. "Hetty said she's taking care of everything. Brody will be fine."

 

Deeks grimaced, eyes going to the video cameras in the corners of the ceiling. "She's been watching the whole thing, hasn't she?"

 

"Pretty much," Sam allowed. "We got to listen in at the end. I'm proud of you, Deeks. You did a good thing here today."

 

"Must have been my turn," Deeks replied, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Sam and Callen had heard everything he'd said to Brody. They knew about his fears. They knew how scared and weak he really was. They knew he wasn't really over the torture. Not completely. And that made him feel jumpy and unsettled and he made to turn and walk away from them. He would walk, not run, to his escape.

 

Unfortunately, Sam caught him by the arm, gently pulling him back around. "It's all good, Deeks. Okay? We're family. It's all good." He looked at Deeks, his dark eyes sending a message, letting him know they weren't judging him.

 

Knowing what Sam meant helped, but he still needed a moment to catch his breath. Deeks nodded though. "Thanks. Um...I'm gonna go check on Ruby." Heading for the door, Deeks stepped out into the street, only to find himself hauled into a bear hug. A rib crushing bear hug that made him catch his breath. But Deeks swallowed the pain, letting Ruby hug him. He needed it as much as she did. When she finally released him, Deeks stepped back and smiled at her, wanting to wipe away the worry he saw mirrored in her eyes as she studied him. "How are you doing, Ruby? You okay?"

 

"Of course I am, thanks to you, Sunshine!" Reaching out, Ruby brushed at his bangs, laughing when they sprang back down over his forehead, refusing to be tamed. "What you did in there, it was so brave. I was so scared for you."

 

"Piece of cake, Ruby," Deeks countered, feeling embarrassed by her sincerity and her concern. "Did I forget to tell you I eat bullets for breakfast?" Teasing was normal and helped ground him, because right now he was feeling wobbly and off-center.

 

She shook a finger at him. "None of that, young man. And, from now on, you eat and drink on the house. And I won't take no for an answer." Wrapping Deeks up in another hug, meant he didn't have the breath to respond. He simply hugged back, ignoring the ache in his ribs. The throbbing pain in his head beat it out anyway.

 

Easing back, Deeks scrubbed a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to shuffle his feet. "Hey...uh...sorry about the window. I can get that fixed for you."

 

"No worries, Sunshine." Ruby ruffled his hair again. She looked about to hug him once more, but someone called her name and she turned away. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she queried.

 

"Or the next day," Deeks countered, feeling a bit guilty because he knew he wouldn't be back for a while. Not because of good trade craft so much as because he didn't want to deal with the memories it would bring. So he exhaled a sigh of relief as he watched Ruby walk off. For a moment he simply stood there, feeling uncertain of what to do next. He figured they'd want him to give a statement at the station, which he really did not want to do. What he needed to do was head down there anyway, to support Brody, the way he promised he would. 

 

Which was as good a plan as any, so Deeks headed for his car, sliding in behind the wheel. Before he could start the engine, his phone rang. Not so surprisingly, it was Hetty. "Hey, Hetty," Deeks replied.

 

She chuckled softly. "Mr. Deeks. How are you feeling?"

 

"A bit tired," he confessed, because he knew there was no use in lying to her. The woman knew everything and then some.

 

"I imagine you'll be going to the station to help Brody Trenton?" She made it sound more like a statement than a question.

 

Deeks nodded, wincing as the pain in his temple throbbed harder. He needed a couple of aspirin, or six. Then he remembered that Hetty couldn't actually see him. "Yeah. That's the plan. Is that okay?"

 

There was a moment of silence that was starting to get uncomfortable, when Hetty replied, "Of course. Do what you need to do, Mr. Deeks. I'm sending over an attorney and a Phsychologist, they've been updated. I can assure you that Brody Trenton will not spend the night in jail."

 

"Thank you, Hetty. I appreciate that." Deeks was relieved and grateful and everything in between. It was good having Henrietta Lang in your corner. The woman knew how to get things done. "I'll give my statement, check on Brody then head into work."

 

"Before you do any of those things, Mr. Deeks, I do believe there are couple of EMT's waiting to check you over," Hetty informed him. "Mr. Hanna and Mr. Callen will escort you."

 

Right on cue, Callen and Sam appeared outside the window, making Deeks jump. He scowled at them before turning his attention back to Hetty. "I don't need to be checked over," Deeks protested.

 

Hetty scoffed. He could hear it clear as a bell over the connection. "Please, Mr. Deeks. I saw everything that happened. Get checked out." With that order ringing in his ear, she promptly hung up on him.

 

"Ready, Deeks?" Sam asked, as he opened the door and gestured for the detective to exit the vehicle.

 

"Can I bribe you to walk away and tell Hetty I'm perfectly fine?" Deeks asked, giving Sam his best puppy dog eyes.

 

The other man snorted. "Don't even think about it, Deeks. And, for the record, Hetty has already informed the EMT's to check your head and your ribs. So forget lying."

 

With a sigh of defeat, Deeks got out of the car, silently cursing the soft moan that escaped him. He knew his aching head was as much from the blow as his own anxieties. His body felt tight with tension, which wasn't helping his ribs any either. His injuries were minor, and he figured Hetty knew that. As much as he was reluctant to get checked out, he knew Hetty was enforcing it to make sure he really was okay. And Deeks really did appreciate the sentiment. In fact he might even forgive and forget if the EMT's were willing to hand over some ibuprofen.

 

***

 

Ten hours later, Deeks made his way into the Mission. The EMT's had confirmed that his injuries were minor and they had handed over three ibuprofen. Deeks had thanked them, then parted ways with Sam and Callen, heading for the LAPD station house.

 

Hetty's lawyer had already gotten Brody released into his brother's custody, but the ex-soldier was talking with Hetty's psychologist. So Deeks had given his statement, signed off on it, chatted with the lawyer to learn that Psychologist wanted to admit Brody into a treatment center. Deeks thought that was a good idea and he said as much to Greg, then to Brody. In fact he drove to the center to be with Brody while Greg went home to pack some of his things. The psychologist had asked Deeks to sit in on an impromptu session, which had been two hours of hell, but it seemed to help Brody, so Deeks counted that as a win.

 

Not so much a win was the drive back, which took almost two hours because Deeks had to pull over twice to throw up. The second time he suffered through an anxiety attack of his own, and that had been all kinds of not fun. But he made it back to his place and into the shower. After brushing his teeth twice, he walked Monty, before deciding that going surfing was a good idea. While drying off before heading back home to shower again, he called Hetty, who had texted to check on him.

 

Texting back that he was fine had prompted Hetty to remind him that he had a bin full of paperwork and to ask if he would be coming in to take care of it. Which was how Deeks had ended up at the Mission at eight o'clock at night. Not so surprisingly, Sam and Callen were still there. 

 

"Hey, Deeks," Sam greeted him. "How are you doing?"

 

"I'm good." Deeks nodded to Callen. "Did I miss anything?"

 

Callen shrugged. "We thought we had a hit on a Russian Mob boss, but the trail went cold. We'll see if anything picks up tomorrow."

 

Deeks was glad to hear it. Having a case to focus on was just what he needed. "You guys heading out soon?"

 

"I am," Sam allowed. "Michelle is holding dinner for me and my kids are waiting for a bedtime story."

 

"Say Hi for me," Deeks requested. Sam had great kids and Michelle was one hell of a woman. He was a lucky man.

 

Sam nodded. "I'll do that. Don't stay too late. And if you need to talk, I'm a phone call away."

 

It was one hell of an offer and Deeks appreciated it, even though he knew he wouldn't call. "Thanks." He watched Sam gather his things and leave, waving goodnight. Deeks then turned to Callen, expecting him to leave as well. "You're staying?" he asked after a long moment of watching Callen type away at his lap top.

 

"Paper work," Callen replied, without looking up. "Your pile is way bigger though."

 

"Thanks for stating the obvious," Deeks countered, grimacing at the stack on his desk. He was about to sit down and tackle it when Hetty called him over.

 

She waited for him to join her over at the sofa in the corner. Gesturing for him to sit on the couch, Hetty pointed to a cup of steaming tea sitting before him on the coffee table. "You're favorite, Mr. Deeks. I thought we could enjoy a nice cup and chat for a bit."

 

Deeks stared at the tea then at Hetty. He sensed she was up to something, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what. "Okay," he drawled, picking up the cup and taking a cautious sip. To his surprise, it was his favorite and made to perfection. "Thanks, Hetty." He took another sip, enjoying the warmth and the flavor, and the comfort it offered, before asking, "So...what did you want to talk about?"

 

"I wanted to ask how you are, Mr. Deeks." Hetty had settled into a nearby chair, her own cup of tea in hand.

 

"I'm good," Deeks replied. "Why?" Because it was Hetty asking, he knew there had to be more to it than simple concern for his well being. He just hoped she wasn't testing him, because as tired as he was, he was going to fail miserably.

 

Hetty shrugged, pausing to take a sip of her tea. So Deeks followed suit, sipping at his own. They passed a few minutes in companionable silence, enjoying their tea, until Deeks realized he was getting sleepy. A giant yawn hit him, nearly cracking his jaw and he felt the tea cup slipping out of his hand. Before he could panic, it was removed and Deeks realized Callen had saved the cup and was pushing him down on the couch. A part of Deeks thought he should resist, but his eyelids were so heavy and a warm darkness was washing over him, willing him to sink into sweet oblivion.

 

Callen grinned as he settled Deeks on the couch, stepping back as Hetty moved in to cover the Detective with a heavy throw blanket. "He's going to be mad when he wakes up."

 

"He'll get over it," Hetty replied, looking as pleased as the cat who ate the canary. 

 

"Want me to stay with him?" Callen offered, not the least bit surprised that Hetty had outright drugged the detective. He didn't want to know what she'd put in the tea, but he just might have Nell test the contents later. It might come in handy in the future.

 

Hetty frowned at Callen. "I was planning on staying with him."

 

Callen shrugged. "I'll stay. I can cat nap in the chair. No problem."

 

"As you wish." Hetty collected both tea cups, smirking at Callen as she did so. "There's a book on the table you might find interesting. I've read it twice already."

 

"Great." Callen glanced at it, gauging it to be some kind of memoir. Probably the life story of some secret spy Hetty had once worked with. "Goodnight, Hetty," he offered, as she turned away.

 

Hetty paused to smile at him. "Good night, Mr. Callen." She glanced over at Deeks one last time, then glided away.

 

Settling himself in the chair closest to the couch, Callen reached for the book. Fifteen minutes later he was sound asleep.

 

***

 

The sound of an alarm bell woke Deeks from a sound sleep and, startling him to the point where he got tangled in the blanket covering him and nearly ended up in a heap on the floor. His eyes flew open and he realized where he was. Still at the Mission.

 

To find Hetty smiling at him. "Good Morning, Mr. Deeks."

 

"You drugged me." Deeks had meant it to sound more accusatory than it did, but he realized he wasn't as angry at her as he thought he should be. But he was curious. "Why did you do that?"

 

"You needed to rest." Hetty made it plain she thought it was a silly question. "How are you feeling?"

 

Deeks contemplated her query. His head ached a little and his ribs were still sore, but overall he felt pretty good. A bit sluggish, but better. For the first time in weeks he realized he had slept without dreaming. Or, rather, without being haunted by nightmares. "I'm good," he replied, and he mostly was. The events of yesterday were scuttering in the back of his head, but he pushed them away. He would deal with them later.

 

Hetty studied him a moment before nodding. "I'm glad. Now...your go bag is waiting for you in the locker room. 

 

"Are you implying I stink?" Deeks teased, and it felt good to slip back into his usual mood and banter with his boss. 

 

"I'm telling you it's time to get back to work, Mr. Deeks," Hetty countered, but she was smiling.

 

It hit him then, what she'd said about the time. "Monty!" Deeks jumped to his feet, ignoring his various aches.

 

Hetty waved a hand at him. "It's been taken care of. Mr. Hanna is stopping by your place to feed and walk Monty."

 

"Thanks." Deeks felt himself relax. 

 

"You're welcome." Hetty rose to her feet and pointed to the coffee table. "Orange juice and aspirin. I would indulge in both if I were you." And with that she sauntered away, the book she had been reading in one hand and her ever present cup of tea in the other.

 

Deeks watched her a moment, before reaching for the glass of juice. Only to pause when she called out his name. "Yes, Hetty?"

 

"I almost forgot," she said, turning back to face him. "Expect a phone call tonight. Around midnight." This time she glided off and disappeared.

 

"Kensi," Deeks whispered, a smile stealing across his face. He found himself humming as he headed for the locker room. Today was going to be a good day. Maybe not tomorrow, but that was okay. He would take what he could get. "One day at a time," Deeks reminded himself.

 

One day at a time.

 

THE END


End file.
